I asked you to write a light novel, but you wrote about living?

The new holographic text, along with a screen full of accusations of "conceptual manipulation" and "unique copy from the old era," pressed down again.

The audience, who had just been amused, were now on edge again.

Yu Wen didn't rush to reply.

He stared at the word "light" hanging in front of him, remaining silent for two or three seconds. It was a kind of understanding that came after being repeatedly pestered, rather than the embarrassment of being cornered.

"you're right."

He said in a calm tone:

"Cultivation and interstellar travel are fictional; no matter how you fabricate them, no one can find fault with them. But 'To Live' depicts the real old era."

The account of the "narratologist" seemed surprised that he would acknowledge it first, and paused for a moment.

Yu Wen did not continue immediately.

He recalled a classical Chinese saying: "You are not a fish, how can you know the joy of fish?"

The next line is: You are not me, how do you know that I do not know the joy of fish?

Yu Wen thought to himself that these words, and then continued speaking:

"But you said I wrote about that era too realistically, that 'earthy smell' that only someone who experienced it could create."

"Then let me ask you, how do you know that the 'earthy' quality in my writing is 'real'?"

The live stream went silent for a moment.

The scrolling barrage of comments on the screen visibly slowed down.

【what? 】

[What does this mean...? Wait, I'm starting to understand something.]

"You said my writing about digging up grass roots and eating clay was very realistic."

Yu Wen's voice wasn't loud, but he pressed down on the words one by one:

"But have you ever tasted Guanyin clay yourself? What does it taste like?"

"No, you are like me, a person living in the modern era. You have never worked in that field, never experienced that hunger, and never met anyone who truly lived through that era."

He paused.

"Then what makes you so sure that what I wrote truly captures the essence of that era? Ultimately, you only 'think' it's real."

"But this 'truth' simply didn't exist in that era."

Yu Wen looked at the camera, his gaze becoming calm.

"It's in the words I write, and in your heart."

"You were drawn into those words, believed them, and thus concluded that only someone who experienced it firsthand could write them. You are no different from those readers who shed tears for Fugui."

He lowered his voice.

"The only difference is that they believed it and cried, while you believed it and then turned around and said I plagiarized it."

The comments section exploded instantly, densely covering the entire screen.

[Holy crap? Another boomerang? How many curves is this boomerang going to make?]

[Hahaha, he's never even tasted Guanyin clay himself, so what right does he have to judge whether someone else's writing is accurate or not?!]

I get it now, the logic is complete, the DNA has been activated.

That "earthy" feeling resides in the reader's heart, not in history. Just this one sentence has made it legendary; it's been added to my notebook.

[Let me sort this out later. You think his writing is really good = that he wrote it well = that it really was written by him? ? ? Oh right, right right!!]

Goodness gracious, I'm just speechless.

Where is the big V? Where is everyone? Weren't they just quoting classics and talking a good game?

[The guy who wrote the exposé post is getting anxious, he's getting anxious, hahaha]

[I actually believed that post before... Damn, after being swayed by Teacher Yu, I believed it again. Am I brainless?]

[Everyone upstairs, we're all just opportunists.]

This is called using one's own spear to attack one's own shield (I might have used the idiom incorrectly, please don't criticize).

[You used it correctly! You really didn't use it wrong this time!]

He remained calm and collected throughout, effortlessly bends the person over; what a terrifying guy!

[Family members, does anyone understand? I'm just passing by and having fun, and I'm clapping like crazy in front of the screen right now.]

I no longer care who plagiarized whom; all I know is, Teacher Yu, you're my mouth mug.

[Win! I'm so excited! I'm totally numb from winning this round!]

After the initial surge of emotion subsided, Yu Wen continued:

"No matter how you put it, the ability to write a story has nothing to do with whether you have experienced it firsthand."

"The key is whether what you write can be believed by people."

"Fugui is a fictional character I made up. He never actually lived in this world, but readers believe he really existed and treat him as someone who truly lived a whole life."

"Being able to do this precisely proves that I write well."

"This is not plagiarism."

"That's called skill."

……

"Awesome!"

The operations manager slammed his fist into his palm, finally releasing most of the pent-up frustration he'd been holding all night.

"President Chang, the trending topics have shifted! 'Yu Huashi Boomerang' is making a splash!"

On the data wall, the popularity of the "plagiarism" topic is dropping at a visible rate, and in its place are new entries praising Yu Wen.

Chang Liren did not laugh immediately.

He stood with his hands behind his back, gazing for a long time at the young man on the screen, who sat in a rusty wheelchair and remained calm and gentle throughout. His eyes were filled with an emotion that even he himself was surprised by.

He staked everything on this person, the one who brought the glimmer of hope.

But he didn't expect that this person's way of retaliating would be so effortless.

With just a few words, he handed the knife that was held to his neck back as it was.

Chang Liren's lips slowly curled up into a smile.

……

The underground study room of the School of Narrative Language at Weiming Academy.

"it is good."

Shen Yanqiu stared at the screen and couldn't help but utter a single word of praise.

Su Huaijin, who had been listening intently, retorted, "Senior brother, this... this doesn't sound like the eloquence of a twenty-year-old who grew up in the lower city."

"Eloquence is a minor matter."

Shen Yanqiu shook his head, a sharp glint in his cloudy eyes:

"Listen to what he's saying. He didn't even try to argue whether he plagiarized or not. He's telling everyone that the 'truth' in the book is never about actually living that life, but about what's written into people's hearts."

The old man paused, his tone carrying a surprising sense of感慨 (gan3kai3, a feeling of deep emotion or reflection).

"This principle is something that countless people have spent their hair turning white in their studies, yet none of them have explained it as clearly as he has."

……

Upper City, Eden Floating Island.

Of all the people, Lu Chenyuan was the most composed.

He leaned back on the sofa, his eyebrows not twitching at all from beginning to end.

The overwhelming praise, the trending topics, and the "deification" others were talking about were all just appetizers in his eyes.

He picked up the glass of water, which had long since gone cold, and silently swirled it in front of the young man on the screen, as if weighing a prey that he found increasingly appealing.

"Logic, eloquence, quick thinking... he's got some talent."

He said in a low voice, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Whether it's experience or a sense of separation, he can tear it all apart in just a few words."

But that smile quickly faded.

"However, these are all just clever tricks."

Lu Chenyuan's gaze darkened.

"You can dismantle the argument that 'you haven't experienced it,' and you can dismantle the argument that 'your writing is too fake.'"

"But can you break 'life'?"

……

Yuntu Literature Headquarters Building, Zhongcheng District.

Pei Zhixing stared at the screen full of "hahaha" and "boomerang invincible," and his face behind his gold-rimmed glasses gradually darkened.

That meticulously crafted exposé post, and that "you can't write something if you haven't experienced it yourself" argument, were refuted verbatim by Yu Wen in a single sentence.

"Stop focusing on his background and the evidence."

Pei Zhixing raised his hand and stopped the public relations manager who wanted to add more online trolls.

"The more we pursue whether he plagiarized or not, the more we give him face."

He stared at the post that had been silenced by the criticism, his voice turning cold.

"This guy is too sharp-tongued and quick-witted. If you give him a flaw, he'll immediately bounce it back. Trying to find evidence to argue with him is just asking for trouble."

Zhao Hongbo held his coffee, remaining silent and waiting for him to continue.

They had already gone through the entire game last night; this was just another match on the spot.

"Do as agreed."

Pei Zhixing pulled up the pre-prepared list of questions, swiped it across the page, and a sinister smile returned to his lips.

"From now on, don't let any accounts that criticize or question him into the system."

"Put in a few of the most influential KOLs, and have them all use the most polite and admiring tone to 'consult' him, elevating him to a level he himself has never reached before."

Zhao Hongbo narrowed his eyes and replied,

The higher you're lifted up, the louder you'll fall.

That's the idea.

Pei Zhixing leaned back in his chair, picked up his coffee, and said slowly,

"We won't spill a drop of dirty water. We'll politely ask this 'expert' to give some advice to two million people. Once he's established himself at his peak and gets cocky, we'll let him slip and fall."

Zhao Hongbo chuckled softly; the pent-up anger he'd been holding in for days finally dissipated.

"By then, we won't even need to lift a finger; the audience will already know his worth."